ANCIENT MEADOWS 243 



the rattling machine. Yet there is more pleasure in 

 "haysel" than "joy in harvest." The weather is not 

 so hot, and the grass does not attract the sun as does 

 the stubble. Every one is ready to lend a hand. 

 There is the sweet scent of the flowers when fresh, and 

 of the grass as it dries. The big horses munch happily 

 while the workmen rest for their "elevenses" and 

 " fourses," and eat their white currant-loaves and drink 

 their cider. The wives help to rake the swathes 

 together for the men, and the children roll about and 

 bury themselves in the haycocks. If the weather is 

 very catchy, the farmer is sometimes thoughtful ; 

 but the stake is not so great as at harvest-time, and 

 the anxiety proportionately less. 



The cutting of the grass leads to a sad disturbance 

 of the wild creatures which the meadow shelters 

 under its tall crop. As the machine or the mowers 

 make the circuit of the outer edges, the nests of 

 landrails, larks, partridges, and pipits, are uncovered ; 

 and even missing bantam-hens and guinea-fowls from 

 the farm may often be found sitting on a stolen 

 nest in the hayfield. The shining blades of the 

 machine cause cruel destruction among all these con- 

 fiding creatures, and the close-sitting partridges are 

 more often killed than saved. Doe-rabbits and field- 

 mice or rather the " voles " which are destroying the 

 Scotch pastures have their nests in the grass, and in 

 the very centre of the field an old hedgehog and her 

 young and prickly family are found rolled up like 

 dumplings, and presenting their spines to the inquisitive 



